So said Uncle Junior to Tony in Episode 4 of the first season of The Sopranos.What does that line have to do with the debate last night? Hold your horses, yep I said that, I'll get around to it.
First of all, I did not enjoy the setup for the debate. I want my politicians standing up, pacing and looking like they are ready to pounce on their opponent. Sitting at a table with their hands folded, does not make for a riveting show.
Now I was watching the debate on CNN. I missed the explanation, so can someone tell me what the hell that flat line graph of Florida undecided voters was supposed to mean? I think it might have been a veiled reference to the age of the population of Boca...it seemed everyone was sleeping peacefully. Eh, I hope they were just sleeping.
Anyway...
While last night wasn't nearly as interesting as the week before, there were still a few fun quotes. Unfortunately, when the moderator ends the night with the best one...well maybe it's a good thing the election is only weeks away.
So let's just savor the few honorable mentions from last night.
"Syria is Iran's only ally in the Arab world. It's their route to the sea" Have you looked at a map at all?
"It still doesn't work" I believe the subject was MittMath, unless they were referencing the "yours is bigger than mine" quote from the last debate.
"Attacking me is not an agenda" But let me attack you and call it policy.
But of course the best line came from President Obama...
"We also have fewer horses and bayonets..."
So here we have a vision of unnaturally large horses, armed...ready for battle, or as Uncle June would say...Heavy
I give you Jethro Tull's "Heavy Horses"
"Iron-clad feather-feet pounding the dustAn October's day, towards eveningSweat embossed veins standing proud to the ploughSalt on a deep chest seasoningLast of the line at an honest day's toilTurning the deep sod underFlint at the fetlock, chasing the boneFlies at the nostrils plunder.
The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the Percheron vieWith the Shire on his feathers floatingHauling soft timber into the duskTo bed on a warm straw coating.
Heavy Horses, move the land under meBehind the plough gliding --- slipping and sliding freeNow you're down to the fewAnd there's no work to doThe tractor's on it's way.
Let me find you a filly for your proud stallion seedTo keep the old line going.And we'll stand you abreast at the back of the woodBehind the young trees growingTo hide you from eyes that mock at your girth,And your eighteen hands at the shoulderAnd one day when the oil barons have all dripped dryAnd the nights are seen to draw colderThey'll beg for your strength, your gentle powerYour noble grace and your bearingAnd you'll strain once again to the sound of the gullsIn the wake of the deep plough, sharing.
Standing like tanks on the brow of the hillUp into the cold wind facingIn stiff battle harness, chained to the worldAgainst the low sun racingBring me a wheel of oaken woodA rein of polished leatherA Heavy Horse and a tumbling skyBrewing heavy weather.
Bring a song for the eveningClean brass to flash the dawnAcross these acres glisteningLike dew on a carpet lawnIn these dark towns folk lie sleepingAs the heavy horses thunder byTo wake the dying cityWith the living horseman's cryAt once the old hands quicken ---Bring pick and wisp and curry comb ---Thrill to the sound of allThe heavy horses coming home."
Oh yeah, the best of the night. Bob Schieffer quoting his mother "Go Vote. It Makes You Feel Big And Strong."
Mom always knows best.
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